Photophobia
by Mariel Nightstalker
Summary: Emmett contemplates his life and makes a change.


A/N: Just a one-shot about Emmett.

**Photophobia**

~000~

"Did you take the umbrella, Rose?"

She shook her head, briefly glancing up from Vogue to twist her lips wryly, "Sorry, no. Did you ask Jasper? He went on a walk last night."

"Okay."

He closed the door to their bedroom behind him, knowing that Rose liked her privacy when she was reading even if it was just a magazine. Descending the stairs, he remembered that Jasper was out with Carlisle and Esme at some charity function. With a groan, he slapped his forehead and considered going back upstairs to harass Rose.

He wouldn't, though. You had to ration how often you disturbed someone like Rosalie, or else she would start barricading the door to keep him out instead of tolerating him.

Because Edward and Alice were out with Bella, probably doing something with Charlie, he had no one to entertain him. He self-consciously pulled on his sleeves, wondering what to do with the afternoon. It was late autumn, so the sky was over-cast (not that it wasn't during the other seasons as well). A walk would be nice.

A walk meant an umbrella in case it rained.

And so he was brought full circle again. "Damn it…"

He went to the basement to see if he'd left any projects unfinished on the tool bench. There were none. He folded laundry instead, humming the theme from the new Batman movie. He sympathized with guys like Bruce Wayne. Sometimes having everything everyone else wanted just wasn't enough to let you sleep at night, and you had to go out there and protect people.

Protect, or rescue. He was rescued by Rose, and he was honestly and truly grateful for that. He really, really was. Living forever with a beautiful wife with enough spitfire in her veins to power the universe was plenty exciting, and the unconditional love of his new family had really made the years blur past.

But sometimes he wasn't all that happy about how he became a part of the Cullen family, he wasn't happy about being undead, and he wasn't happy with Rose. You see, that was the problem. She rescued him and saved him from a premature death, the kind that called for a burial or cremation afterwards, and he'd always felt that he owed her for that. He never thought directly about it when Edward was around, and tried not to show how he felt with Jasper in the area.

The truth was, he didn't love Rosalie. He'd never loved her, and only married her out of a sense of duty. And now he was stuck, stuck here in this semi-immortal body with a family that didn't actually understand him. They looked at him and they thought of a gentle giant with a big smile for everyone.

He didn't always feel like smiling, and some days he really wanted to smash someone's face in just to let out some of the frustration he was feeling. That was the real reason he was so enthusiastic about hunting, feeding. It let him release that frustration, and Carlisle didn't know that when he went on private hunting trips, he spent them testing the limits of his immortality.

The mask was getting suffocating, and he didn't want to wear it anymore.

Fear and frustration ruled his life, and ruled all Vampires. Fear of discovery, and of course, photophobia: Terror of light.

He set down Jasper's t-shirt, half-folded. Fuck this. Fuck fear. Fuck sitting around because he felt so damn tied to Rose for saving his life. That was a long time ago, and he'd paid his dues. He'd protected this family, loaned his strength for decades to keep them safe and his charm to keep them accepted.

Enough was enough.

In one move, he spun, crouched, and dove out the window of the basement. The glass shattered, not hurting him. He landed like a cat in one of Esme's flower beds, freezing autumn wind roaring in the trees.

He hesitated for one millisecond, feeling the world slow down and wondering if he was really going to do this. The answer came back along with his confidence. Yes. He was. The cloud cover broke, and weak sunlight the color of cold butter came through and poured over him. His skin started to prickle and then to glow through his thin shirt.

He took off running, and didn't look back.

~000~

A/N: Just a concept that's occurred to me a few times. It's not as awesome as Rejection, but I hope you guys liked this peek into Emmett's psyche. I always thought that he and Rose didn't have much love between them.


End file.
